


We Can Go Home

by JaneXemylixa



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blindfolds, Fluff, Hand Feeding, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Missing Scene, Myr/Runi, fanfic of original work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-19 02:13:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29743419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneXemylixa/pseuds/JaneXemylixa
Summary: After Myr and Runi teleport back to the palace.Lovey-dovey fluff, because they've earned it (and because I discovered I can't be subtle).[based onthis]
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	We Can Go Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mathildia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mathildia/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Depravity](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21784669) by [mathildia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mathildia/pseuds/mathildia). 



“Close your eyes,” Myr commands immediately when the light of transference has faded. Runi obeys. His legs wobble, his head feels hot and heavy; he has to cling to Myr for support.

The air around him is spring-cool and gentle, and he feels the touch of the sun — regular, friendly sun — on his skin. It's quiet, there is a clock ticking. A sizzling, crackling noise from the side tells him Myr has somehow lit a fireplace.

“Where are we?”

“Your rooms. They weren't touched, thankfully, it seems. Everything is in place.” Myr stands back, his hands are on Runi's neck. “Let's see. We won't need this anymore."

Runi smiles; he has almost forgotten what he was wearing.

The collar is released and comes off with a light tink. When Myr puts his hands on the back of the belt to remove it, his fingers brush over the skin still raw from the Warden's beating. Runi hisses with pain.

“Sorry.” A kiss on the neck, a tinkling of chain being taken off and away. “Should I help you with this?”

“If you want,” Runi says weakly. He knows he'll need to sit and sleep somehow — but however uncomfortable it is, he took this pain for Myr, voluntarily. He is proud of it. And only Myr decides what happens to him next.

“And don't be sorry,” he adds.

He is ordered to lie face down on the bed as Myr rubs a cool, soothing lotion that he brought from who knows where into the marks on his arse, and the sting soon fades into a pleasant chilly sensation under Myr's gentle but solid touch.

Then he is sat on the bed (it still burns, but isn't unbearable) and hears a sound of fabric being ripped, a slosh and dribble of water, and cool wet cloth is pressed onto his closed eyes and secured with a strap of fabric around Runi's head. “Don't touch this,” Myr says as he ties the bandage in place. “Not for a few days. We need to make sure your eyes weren't damaged permanently.”

When it's done and Runi is reclining on the pillows, he asks: “What will you do now?”

“Make Bow a better place,” Myr says firmly. “You will stay here. Don't leave the bed.”

“Don't you think the High Chancellor of Bow ought to be by your side as you do this?” Runi is only half-joking as he says this. His mind is buzzing. He doesn't feel he can truly rest right now.

“I think the High Chancellor can afford a few days off.” He can hear the smile in Myr's voice. The weight next to him shifts. “I'll be back soon,” Myr says, softer and closer. “Don't worry. You're safe now.”

Just as he's ready to stand up and leave, Runi catches him by the cuff before he can think about it.

His hand is shaking. Something painful seizes his throat and chest from the inside, blocking his breath. His eyes feel hot. 

When he tries to speak, all that comes out is a shuddering sob.

Myr's hands are on his face then, on his shoulders and back, lifting him up, pressing him close. Runi can't think anymore. He lets himself go, pours out the pent-up horror and despair of the past weeks as Myr holds him, babbling through his tears “make it be over, please, let it all be over” again and again, until the tears run out and he's slumped into his shoulder, drawing deep shaky breaths, Myr's lips pressed to his head.

_I'm sorry,_ his thoughts whisper in Runi's mind.

_I'm sorry._

_Just a little more._

_And then I'll never leave your side again._

An adjustment of blankets, a barely-seen burst of light, and he's gone.

* * *

Runi eventually loses track of ticks and tocks of the clock as he waits.

There's no change in his small, safe, lightless world as hours pass, and he can't let himself relax. He tries to listen to noises from the outside, but apart from vague yells and marching footsteps there's nothing to tell him what's happening in the palace. The pain in his eyes, having subsided under the bandages, is back with a vengeance: they burn and scratch like they're full of hot sand. Runi only just resists the urge to rub them.

As the room gets cooler and darker, his thoughts grow slower and more distant, he finds himself adrift between sleep and wakefulness, and then finally feels a white-blue flash illuminate the room, a dip in the bed next to him, and a cool hand touches his head.

“How are you?”

“Okay,” Runi slurs back. “My head hurts. And eyes sting a bit, but it's nothing like before.”

“Are you hungry?”

“I think so.”

Myr helps him sit up on the bed, holds his chin. “I brought some fruit and bread from the kitchen... Do you want me to feed you?”

“Yes, please.” Runi opens his mouth, feeling its corners twitch up with anticipation.

Myr does — putting small bits of rich white bread and sweet-smelling grapes on Runi's lower lip, keeping his fingers there as Runi licks and swallows each piece of food, stroking his jaw. _I do enjoy taking care of you,_ his mind says, _I enjoy seeing you put yourself in my hands,_ and the words envelop Runi like a warm blanket. A cup of water is then brought to his lips, which he empties in a few big gulps; it's been so long since he drank anything.

Then the cup is put aside and Myr is under the blankets next to him. Runi snuggles closer, towards the strange but wonderful heat of Myr's body, feels the steady hum of _power_ under his palm and cheek, and sighs deeply, tension inside him beginning to unwind at last.

But only beginning.

“How much damage?” he finally asks.

“Sorry?”

“How much got destroyed. How long to recover.” He swallows. “How many dead?”

There's a moment before Myr speaks.

“Reports are only starting to come in. I'll deal with them tomorrow,” he says. “Among the palace staff... it appears the attack was so sudden, not much force was needed. I think most had defected. I'll deal with that too.”

Runi nods, still uneasy.

“Verne?” he remembers.

“She will be alright.”

Runi nods again. A silence falls.

Lying together in bed in his room, warm and sweet and cozy, after everything, feels unreal. He's wanted this so much, for so long, he can barely believe it. Myr is stroking his back, hand running from the base of his neck down his spine, stopping just short of where it would make Runi squirm and moving up again. It still doesn't take long before his breath gets shallow and his lips are slack against Myr's chest. It's been a long day.

“Did you want something?” Myr whispers in his ear. Casual, almost businesslike, as if they're back where it all started, and Runi can only moan and press into him. Myr knows him too well.

“You'll have to forgive me if there's no pain tonight.” He shifts Runi onto his back, head leaning on his shoulder, and slides a hand around his thigh. “You need time to recover.”

“Anything,” Runi breathes, “remember? It's up to you. However much. However little. I'm yours.”

Myr nods.

He takes his time with him, steady and careful and right. He has shown Myr the way he likes it, Runi remembers, recognising the stroke pattern, and the thought alone almost sweeps him all the way under.

_When I offered this to you back then,_ he hears in his mind, _it wasn't just a courtesy. I should have made it clear sooner. I should have known._

Runi can't tell if Myr meant for him to hear it.

_I never thought I could want, need, anyone before meeting you._

He's panting now, and it's so good and almost too good and beautiful and something at the back of his mind expects to wake up and have to get up and face the execution all over again, but Myr is there, right there, gentle hand moving quicker, smiling teeth and hot breath on his ear, and he's coming before he knows it, moaning out and melting into his body like warm wax in a mould.

Myr lets him kiss his soiled fingers and then kisses his mouth, slow and possessive, and as Runi tips his head back to meet him he knows, finally knows that there will be a tomorrow. There'll be a tomorrow, and then a day after that, and after that too; and for as long as it lasts, he will belong — belong in a way he has never felt in court before.

...And if, half-awake in the middle of the night, he hears tiny restrained sobs next to his ear and raises a hand to run it through Myr's silky hair, neither of them say anything about it in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic uwu!!  
> Seriously though, I never thought I'd have the ~~nerve~~ patience. But I love this tiny canon too much not to try to expand on it.  
> I can't thank [mathildia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mathildia) enough. She's awesome and her writing is beautiful.


End file.
